


A Nonexistent Portrait

by BlackDog9314



Series: Rhapsodic 'Verse Time-Stamps [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, POV Andy Gallagher, Rhapsodic 'verse, time-stamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 09:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11552457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackDog9314/pseuds/BlackDog9314
Summary: The strange dance Andy and Meg have performed for months is getting old.





	A Nonexistent Portrait

**Author's Note:**

> This time-stamp takes place a few days after Castiel and Andy meet.  
> To read the main work these one shots are written to accompany, click [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2660231/chapters/5945528).

The past few days, Andy had been wondering what he’d paint if he was an artist like—was it Clarence? Castillo? Whatever Meg’s friend’s name was.

He was high and sprawled out on his bed, looking at the water damage to the ceiling above him.

“I’d paint you.”

Andy didn’t realize he’d said the words aloud to Meg until she started to laugh at him, her eyes closing as she threw her head back to suck in a long breath and laugh some more.

“You’d what?” she gasped.

Andy rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. I was just thinking about what I’d paint if I drew stuff like Casio.”

“Clarence?” Meg asked, her laughter finally slowing and stopping.

Andy nodded.

“Why are you thinking about him?” Meg asked.

“I was thinking about painting you, if you’re gonna get technical,” Andy said with a grin.

Meg’s expression became unreadable, and she looked away. “You’re doing it again.”

“What? I can’t say anything ever about you, now?” Andy questioned as he sat up in the bed.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Meg’s body looked like it had locked up, her muscles taut and still where she still lay on the bed next to him.

“I didn’t know it made you so miserable to know I still like you,” Andy said. “Noted.”

“It’s not that. Whatever, I need to go.”

“Who’s picking you up?” Andy asked as Meg stood up and reached for her hoodie where it still lay on the bed.

“Does it matter?”

“If it’s the same person who picked you up piss-faced drunk last week, I think it does fucking matter,” Andy snapped.

“I’m not hanging out with Az anymore,” Meg said with a scoff. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“Can you blame me for asking?” Andy spat.

He instantly regretted as he _saw_ Meg close herself off, saw her eyes harden and her mouth press itself down to a thin, pink line.

“Bye, Andy.” Meg’s voice was like ice.

As Meg walked out the front door a few minutes later, Andy watched her through the window beside his bed.

She got into the same car she had a few days before, a long red muscle car that pulled haphazardly into the drive.

“Fuck,” Andy muttered under his breath as he fell back onto his bed. “Fuck.”

It had been a good day, right up until it wasn’t.


End file.
